


Shallow Water

by orphan_account



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Blood Kink, Blood Magic, Body Horror, Courting Rituals, Creature Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Scent Marking, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Geralt’s species doesn’t kiss the way humans do.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 32
Kudos: 449





	Shallow Water

**Author's Note:**

> The product of lots of yelling at each other in DMs, lots of agonizing, lots of plotting that went nowhere. Enjoy :]

Geralt was born a mutant, bright white tail to match his white hair. Without the typical camouflage coloring of his people, he attracted the attention of predators and hunters. He was abandoned by his pod the second he could fend for himself.

He’s covered in scars from encounters with things that want to kill and/or eat him. Sharks, humans, even other mer attack him out of fear for their own safety. 

Geralt is used to being spotted, chased for miles by human hunters who want to catch him and sell him (or bits of him) to the highest bidder. He can usually outrun or outsmart them, he hasn’t survived this long by being slow or stupid, but one day he drops his guard.

They chase him into shallow coastal waters. His tail gets badly torn and he takes a spear in the shoulder before he manages to wedge himself behind some rocks on the shore. He curls up on the sand and hides. The hunters pass, but he’s beached himself; is too hurt to swim to safety. 

He doesn't want to die like this, but he doesn't have much of a choice.

*--*

Jaskier is just trying to take a nice relaxing stroll on the beach, maybe find a little inspiration while he’s at it, and instead he finds a snarling hissing wounded merman. Jaskier has never had any sense of self preservation so of course he decides he has to help.

After a bit more growling and snapping, the merman allows Jaskier close enough to look at the spear wound in his shoulder. It isn’t too terrible but the tail is in bad shape and he’s lost enough blood that he is weak and woozy with it. He isn’t getting back to the water without help.

He is all muscle; he’s  _ heavy. _ But Jaskier manages to drag him to the water. There isn’t anything he can do about the damage to the merman's tail but he does decide to care for him until he heals. He brings him meals, spends time with him, even gets him to crack a pointy smile.

They exchange names, Jaskier not expecting the rough growl of a voice from a creature famed for luring in prey with singing, but it suits him, and very well.  _ Geralt. _

*--*

Geralt’s species doesn’t kiss the way humans do. There’s some confusion the first time Jaskier leans in close and angles his head just so and Geralt only blinks at him curiously. Turns out he’s a fast learner, once they figure out how to adjust for his razor sharp teeth.

In return, Geralt shows Jaskier how his people show affection. He leans their heads together, foreheads touching, and locks his golden eyes on Jaskier’s bright blue ones. It’s intimate and weirdly thrilling.

After that experience, Geralt begins to notice certain behaviors in Jaskier that puzzle him. Jaskier brings him food every day; fresh caught fish as he’s used to, and a few new human treats he’s never tasted before. He even develops a sweet tooth, to Jaskier’s delight.

The human asks to comb and braid his long hair. No one, not even one of his own people, has ever shown interest in grooming him. The feeling of strong nimble fingers combing through the strands is something Geralt begins to crave.

Jaskier sings often and about everything. Sometimes loud and full and rich and other times soft and almost bitten off. The times when he sings specially for Geralt feel sacred. Jaskier can’t know what it means to share  _ Song _ like this and Geralt can’t find the words to explain.

The mutations that gave Geralt his unique and damning coloration also took his ability to  _ Sing. _ His speaking voice is rough and gravely and he’s lucky to have that. When Jaskier sings to him, Geralt would give anything to be able to sing back and hear their voices intertwine.

Jaskier brings Geralt a thin, dark, cloak that billows around him, hides how pale he is, how brightly he shines. He brings Geralt trinkets, brings him food and stories and songs, and Geralt feels desire twist in his chest.

Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers over the sharp points of Geralt's face, places jeweled combs in his hair. He sings when he tends to Geralt's wounds, for distraction; the desire spikes white hot between them, and they end up writhing around.

Kissing is almost natural for Geralt, now, Jaskier licking into his mouth around his teeth, sharing his taste. Geralt leaves red marks when he licks up the bard's neck, his tongue rougher, not as soft. He bites, thrills at Jaskier looking properly debauched.

Jaskier bites back, hard enough to break the skin only the once, brings a few drops of blood up, sucks them away, doesn't think on it again.

But Geralt has been wishing, as he runs his hands up Jaskier's thighs, as he plunges his inhuman tongue deeply into Jaskier's mouth. They've each had each other's blood, now.

*--*

Geralt already thought Jaskier smelled like the best kind of time, but as the magic winds its way deeper into his bones Jaskier's scent changes, something deeper and darker and more fitting with one of his kind.

Jaskier starts scenting Geralt in return, smearing his seed all over whatever part of the mermaid he can reach. Geralt licks it off himself, and it tastes like shallow ocean water.

When he can, he hefts himself out of the water, pressing the whole of himself against his human, writhing and growling until he finds his own release, and he grinds it into the cloth the other drapes over himself, into his skin.

They smell more like each other than individuals, scents mixed, magic hooking in, and Jaskier can feel an itch under his gums, skin twitching. Things are sharper, brighter. And he thinks of all the stories he's heard about the price you pay for a non human lover.

  
  


Jaskier is terrified, so much, and he tries to talk with Geralt about it, but Geralt just makes a low noise that curls deep in his gut, and Jaskier smiles wildly at the people he entertains to try and pretend that he can't almost see himself tearing into them.

Geralt dips his fingers into Jaskier's mouth, and the bard chokes but swallows around claws, takes the mix of their seed into his belly. The magic deepens, stronger every day. 

Jaskier stops fighting it, after a while.

*--*

Geralt can't  _ Sing, _ but he wouldn't even have to for Jaskier, who wants him with a fierceness he's never seen. Who twists and writhes on his own fingers, on the clever little toys he brings along, until he demands Geralt inside him.

When he pushes in it's like a vice, it almost hurts, he almost pulls out, but the sounds coming from his lover spur him on. Jaskier sounds like he's dying, tears dripping down his cheeks into his hair, hands clawing at Geralt's arms, and he screams and begs Geralt into quicker movement.

And Jaskier is so, so, full, it's so deep he honestly feels like he's choking on it and he has lost all his words. Geralt leans over, bites into his neck, hard, comes at the taste of blood and the human begging him for more. It will leave a scar. Jaskier is his, now.

For all that there was blood, that there was no way for it to be completely painless, Geralt was gentle, whispering sweetly to him, hands firm but not overly rough. Jaskier has never had someone kiss their love into his skin, into his lungs. It's nearly too much, how much he loves Geralt.

*--*

His gums bleed as his new teeth grow in, his skin ripples and tears, and Geralt holds him through the worst of it, and the terror on his lover's face as Jaskier staggered to their little alcove was a cold comfort. 

He has no doubt that Geralt knew that this was coming, blood and seed and magic mixing together, twisting him into something other, but the merman is weeping along with him, scared out of his wits; Jaskier is grateful when the pain finally overwhelms him, and he slips under.

*--*

Geralt has to drag Jaskier to the special hollow he found, an underwater cave, air leaking in from the surface from cracks in the stone that forms it. He had been building a nest for them, there, a safe place. 

He hates how much blood is in the water. Hates how, even unconscious, Jaskier still writhes, still convulses, the agony of the transformation pulsing through his body. 

Geralt didn't know. He didn't, but wished for it anyways, and now his chosen suffers. He regrets it, as much as he can, for the pain it's caused.

When Jaskier finally awakens, Geralt is  _ exhausted, _ trembling, covered in blood, and he’d tried to  _ Sing _ the whole wretched time, desperate to steal the pain away, but Geralt can't  _ Sing, _ had torn his own throat to pieces trying to force the magic through.

Jaskier is free of pain, however, and he cups his newly taloned hands around Geralt's pale face, and he can  _ sense _ it, how Geralt had hurt himself trying to take care of him. 

He's not. Well. He's not  _ pleased, _ but he  _ is _ happy, in a way. He can stay with Geralt, like this.

Only time will tell what the future will hold for them, now. Jaskier can't be certain he won't grow to resent this, resent  _ Geralt, _ but he also knows that he loves him. 

And he's very much looking forward to figuring out how mermen fuck each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the stuff that didn't make it in may be turned into a small spin off fic FYI I just couldn't make it work this time lol
> 
> Say hi on Twitter @gotfanfiction


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